


Best Worst Day Ever

by popatochisp



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Anxiety, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Other, Self-Esteem Issues, Underswap Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:04:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popatochisp/pseuds/popatochisp
Summary: You're having what feels like the shittiest day of your life, hoping your bright and cheery bonefriend can make it just a little bit better.Now, if you can justgetto him without bursting into tears...





	Best Worst Day Ever

You were having  _a day_.

It was one of those days where everything was garbage: everything you said was the wrong thing, everything you tried to do turned out terrible, and it was just one thing after another to the point that you hadn’t even had a break to just  _breathe_.

You went looking for Sans as soon as you could. Your thought was that your cheerful, affectionate skeleton could…brighten your mood somehow, in that inexplicable way he always did.

But you should’ve known even  _that_  would backfire on you.

You saw Sans alright, behind the bar exactly where he should’ve been halfway through his shift. You saw the personable smile on his skull and you saw the careful balance between precision and flourish that produced perfect cocktails with every pour.

You  _also_  saw the pretty little monster girl giggling as he passed a neon green martini into her hooves with a charming grin, and you…

You kinda want to throw up.

Suddenly, all you can think about is how  _that’s_  the kind of person Sans should be with: somebody bubbly and sweet like he is, somebody  _cute_  and  _good_  and not a barely functional disaster like  _you_.

Your eyes sting and it’s all you can do to scurry out the back before you burst into tears.

Crying in an alleyway because you saw your boyfriend  _talking to a girl_ feels like a pathetic new low for you and it just makes you sob harder. You need to get a hold of yourself, you  _know_  you do, but you can’t stop and you hate it.

This day feels like the worst day of your life.

The sound of your name and a gentle touch to your shoulder makes you jolt.

Sans looks alarmed, to say the least, at the sight of your tear-streaked face. “WHAT’S WRONG?” he demands, cupping your cheek with gentle concern—concern you don’t deserve by a long-shot. “WHY ARE YOU CRYING, LOVE?”

Your throat is too tight to answer, but you know you don’t have to: Sans is a wizard at reading faces. You have no idea  _how_ , but you’ve always been an open book to him, like all he has to do is get a good look at you and he can read your mind.

The thought makes you sob again.

Sans is going to realize what an  _idiot_  you are, crying over nothing at all just because you couldn’t handle a hard day.

Sure enough, understanding washes over his skull. “OH…YOU DON’T  _REALLY_  THINK…”

He frowns, not liking whatever he sees in your expression.

“I WOULD  _NEVER_ ,” he says firmly, sounding offended by the notion. “I’M YOURS. YOU KNOW THAT, DON’T YOU? DO YOU REALLY THINK I COULD  _EVER_  REPLACE  _YOU_?”

You just sniffle. “I’m…I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say, “I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

That seems to soften him.

“A VERY TERRIBLE DAY, I WOULD IMAGINE,” Sans concludes with a sigh. His gloved hands wipe the tears from your cheeks and you lean into his touch. As much as you doubt you deserve it, you crave the comfort in those hands; in Sans’ genuine, straightforward affection. “IT’S ALRIGHT, I’M HERE NOW. I’LL TAKE CARE OF YOU.”

“What…what about…” Your insecure heart hisses  _that girl_ , but your mouth says, “your shift?”

Sans smiles at you, all too knowingly. “THE HELL WITH IT,” he says. “IT’S A SLOW NIGHT. I’LL CALL THE CHIEF IN THE MORNING TOO, MOVE MY SCHEDULE AROUND. SURELY WITH ALL THOSE HUMANS THEY OUGHT TO BE ABLE TO HANDLE ONE MEASLY FIRE OR TWO WITHOUT ME.”

Stars above, he was serious. Sans was  _really_  going to do that for you, rearranging his life on a whim because you were upset and he wanted to be with you.

You love him. You love him so much, how could you  _ever_  have thought he’d leave you for somebody else?

“You don’t have to…” You trail off when he raises a browbone at you, as if daring you to finish the self-deprecating sentence. You laugh a little instead, sheepishly saying, “Thank you, Sans. You’re the best.”

“OF COURSE I AM,” he’s happy to agree, the blue of his eye-lights seeming to brighten at your smile. “AND THE BEST HUMAN IS MY DATEMATE.” In a conspiratorial whisper that’s absolutely not a whisper, he adds, “ _THAT’S YOU_.”

You laugh.

Sans is  _good_ at making you laugh and when he leans in to kiss you, you think that maybe this ‘worst day ever’ is finally starting to look up.

**Author's Note:**

> Posting some drabbles of mine separately just because! Originally from my collection, Bag of Bones, where this and the rest of my drabbles so far can be found.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
